


THE V IN VIXX STANDS FOR VICTORIA

by Giripops



Category: EXO (Band), VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Fan Service, I Don't Even Know, I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Going to Hell, I'm Not Ashamed, Multi, My First Work in This Fandom, Uhm, Victoria's Secrets is shaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 14:34:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15511953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giripops/pseuds/Giripops
Summary: Um,Based of a shit convo between JaneDoe- my best friend - about a male version of Victoria's Secrets Fashion Show combined with my undying love for the 2016 Conception Era!My brain: Hey, let's write this like an AU - originally this piece had no name and was just called the VSM AU starring Vixx.Enjoy.Oddles of fan service.





	THE V IN VIXX STANDS FOR VICTORIA

**Author's Note:**

> This is so exciting! This is my first official piece that I am posting for Kpop.  
> All editing had been done by me so all mistakes are mine alone.  
> SPOILER - Greek Theme - no duh, it's the Conception era - not accurately used - the info is but there is a slight twist in the events - Poetic licences and all that, you know?

Soft squeaks were heard against the marble floors as the figure trudged in white sneakers to the large desk. The desk was a mess of papers – stacks of scanned designs and batches of print-out ensembles, some even design details with colour and pattern swatches attached with heavy metal staples – strewn all about, some balancing precariously to the point the wrong turn near the desk would make the papers swoop off the smooth surface and grace the floor.

“There better be a good reason for why you’ve called me here. Especially on my day off, it’s not as if you already aren’t stealing half of my weekend by dragging my ass to your stupid snazzy affair.” A feminine voice bit out grumpily at the figure facing the window and took a seat in front of the messy desk.

The posture of the figure was tense, and a mass of papers are crumpling within the figure’s grasp while the other arm braced the tall person against the window frame. Glass panelling won’t do with fingerprints on them, so the sleeved arm bolsters the support against the cool clear surface. The sunlight filtered in excellently, highlighting the little surprises of light brown tufts amidst the darker brown ones that have turned a pale ginger brown. The short coifed bangs were wonderful against the pretty hue of the male’s figure and highlighted his sharp nose and jawline.  The undercut accented the skin of his long neck that disappeared under the crisp white dress jacket. 

He scoffed dramatically and threw the crumpled papers on the desk, ignoring the fact he heard mini shower of raining papers that had exploded off his desk. He still hadn’t turned to face the female sitting in the guest chair.

Meanwhile she was inspecting what he had thrown.

It was a newspaper.

A newspaper that had a very particular article that spelt bad news.

_FASHION INDUSTRY A LIE:_

_DOUBLE STANDARDS WITHIN GENDER BEAUTY EXPECTATIONS._

_CEO OF SIGnature DESIGN HOUSE UNDER FIRE FOR CONTRAVERSIAL STATEMENTS._

The female nudged the paper away with her fingertips after skimming the article and let out a low whistle.

“This is a lot of trouble for you, even with the article being rubbish and all that, you know that right?” She asked as she settled into the plush chair comfortably.

The man whirled around as if her announcing the obvious was unknown to him. His expression flared with his renewed anger, shoulders tensing up and a strangled growl trying to escape his mouth. His large framed glasses had skewed when he spun on his heel.

So he stopped and sighed deeply, righting the frames.

“I know that, you know that, the public knows that, even _that bloody newspaper_ knows that. That’s exactly _why_ they did it. Even the whole world knows that. But what’s a good gala without some bad media. It’s even reached my Instagram. It’s only a matter of time before the models hear of this.” He huffed and braced his hands on his chaotic desk.

“Jeez, do you even own a shirt?” She quirked an eyebrow at him, inspecting the crisp and flawless white dress jacket draped over his sturdy shoulders, shirt and tie forgone under the jacket. The jacket was coupled with equally stark white pants that tapered tastefully to ankle grazing level and he had his office shoes on.

Office shoes by the man’s standards were smartly fashioned slippers of leather and fur – faux and synthetic, _naturally, we want to look good and not be murderers for the sake of an aesthetic_ – that tickled the skin of his feet whenever he slipped them on. The single buckle across them gave him a somewhat professional feel and the cherry on top had to be the expensive timepiece that was moulded onto his wrist.  

“I believe in fashion before comfort, sweetheart.” He chided drily.

“I didn’t realise you were into being a pretentious prick while wearing your fuzzy slippers.” She eyed the shiny black dress shoes at the corner of the room next to his rack of spare clothes, all ranging from clean suits to shirts to formal jeans for his more informal meetings.  

“Fashion is fucking pretentious. We say its expression of art in people and fabric but really we just want people to stop eating to look good in skinny stuff. Less is more and all that.” He snorted mirthlessly while he gestured, off handed in manner, with an upturned palm.

“Wow. This article isn’t just bugging you, what’s _really_ eating you?” The tiny female had managed to fold her entire frame into a cross legged seated position within his guest chair.

“Well, aside from being called insensitive and sexist, I do believe I am in the order of changing my entire gala around before Friday so that the media doesn’t make me the poster child of barring creativity in beauty because of gender preference and biasing.”  He rattled off, aura completely vexed.

He finally picked his head up to make contact with her and he looked like he was caught a little off-guard, eyebrows chasing his hairline – for the first time since the beginning of their little meeting, he had finally noticed how she was dressed.

“Did you really come to my office dressed like a slob?” He asked humorously.

“Excuse me for rushing out of concern; I really don’t have emergency outfits on standby. You _did_ ring me while I was sleeping. Besides, Key isn’t even around to grill me, so it’s all good.” She scoffed, subconsciously wringing the grey and white shirt that was soft with wash-and-wear. He threw a glance at the loose fitting shirt that was coupled with black sweats and her white sneakers and eyed the messy bun that she had managed to pull her copious amounts of hair into – it seemed to lean a little too much on the messy side.

Still, she had some decency to attempt colour coordinating in her sleep induced state.

“Well, I hope you aren’t wearing anything remotely close to this excuse of an outfit on Saturday night.” He griped.

“Heavens no! The sweatpants I picked out for that night is bootlegged, neon green and bedazzled, I did it all by myself and completed the outfit with a matching track jacket.”

He flung a fabric swatch at her and she chuckled as she caught the fabric swatch.

“What is wrong with you?”  He sighed, the tiniest sign of amusement on his features.

“Nothing is wrong with me, In-Guk- _sshi_. I just want to dress like a normal person and don’t you dare behave like you have walked around like a polished Vogue model all your life! I have too many blackmail shots of you in nothing but your favourite pair of boxer shorts with Rilakkuma bears on them and your black shirt that now is faded grey.”

Four things had pissed Seo In-Guk off in those last three sentences. 

First, the use of the formal addressing; two, the fact that there were blackmail photographs of him; three, he stopped using those boxers years ago – _a month in actual truth, but hey, Fashion moved at the speed of light so it was almost equivalent_ and finally; four, he threw those shirts out. He had new ones – thin and loose black sleep shirts form his own brand, softer ones and a size larger than his own size for his comfort when sleeping.

“Get out of my office. I made a mistake calling you here.” He pulled the frames off and rubbed the bridge of his nose, exasperatedly.

“C’mon. Let’s go get coffee and get some food in your system and maybe you can turn this thing around right.” She didn’t seem fazed with his mood.

“Why can’t we just get beer and noodles?” He complained childishly, lips in a moue.

“It isn’t even shy of eleven in the morning, In-Guk.” She called out.

“It’s happy hour somewhere in this world right now and we’re joining them!” He raised an eyebrow at her; a silent challenge of a look as if she could stop his plan.

She chuckled, hopping off the chair and made her way to the door. She stopped and called out from the door of his office, “Call! Get out of that ridiculous excuse of a suit and I’ll meet you outside your office.”

 

* * *

 

The night felt like a nightmare alone and you hadn’t even stepped out of the car.

SIGnature Designs had been quiet all week, showing no signs of response to the bad media regarding their upcoming contributions to Fashion Week in Seoul. Of course, the company rep had stepped forward with In-Guk’s promise to rectify any sort of offense caused by SIG House actions.

Naturally, social media was buzzing and blowing up with anticipation and multiple fake accounts of insider sources reporting on the possible course of action from said Design House for the upcoming weekend.

Friday had stirred up twice the storm with an all-female featured presentation of designs. To make matters worse, In-Guk seemed to have reportedly thrown out all the designs – apparently dresses and gowns and fashionable cut out piece suits – he had been working on them all season but it seemed it was all for naught since he decided on flared lingerie for his showcase.

A taste of Aphrodite, he claimed at the show. 

The redeeming – quoted from the media – quality to his show the night before was the fact that he had not exploited the women for just their physiques, but he had made the models feel as if the lingerie was made especially for them.

Truth being told, In-Guk had a knack for that with his Design team and he had catered for all body sizes, he even went as far as discarding the superficial idea of a model-plus-size and used actually shapely sized women for his range. Of course, the media was fickle and had sang praises in songs over his ground breaking stereotyping breaking approach in beauty bodily expectations in women.

Yet, the great Seo In-Guk could not shake the media’s attention from the tarnishing accusation that he and his entire design house was gender biased and didn’t have any idea how to design for a man.

You found it ridiculous that the articles would even paint that type of idea of the man. And you weren’t just saying that out of the fact he was your closest friend but because it is the very same critics would applaud him for his impeccable dressing and sensational sense of style. 

You sighed.

Maybe that was why In-Guk called fashion pretentious.

Others simply believed that he had a great stylist team backing him and running behind him the entire time – however not a politely word as you did. You found that extremely laughable considering the man barely wanted his own friends around him. The man was an absolute monster when he was in his designing phase – he threw the biggest of hissy fits and literally packed his entire team’s schedule until they were close to dropping dead because the man was an utter perfectionist.

Well, the gala really wasn’t your issue, so you had to remind yourself that you shouldn’t have been fretting much about it since all you had to do was just attend as a guest – a very, very special guest that involved the perk of being on the arm of one from the CEO’s personal board team.

Lee Taemin was a brilliant escort for the night.

Naturally, the team’s maknae was dressed as if he had stepped off the catwalk just to be with your company. He was perfectly wrapped in a dark suit with sharp white pinstripes. The contrast of his outfit made his hair soft blonde hair seem much brighter. The suit was completed with iron silk grey shirt and tie and the white leather studded holster inspired belts wound around his thigh and bicep. 

Taemin was a rebel when it came to fashion and his stupidly amazing talent to drift between gender-roles made him pull off any stupid idea that possessed the young dubbed genius.

It made you feel slightly underdressed with your black lace number.

A classy floor length gown with long sheer sleeves – the gown was tastefully made to hide your shyness for skin exposure with layers of flattering lace and nude sheer material. The nude layers covered up while creating the inviting and daring look of the gown which coupled with dark velvet heels – blood red under soles for a statement. The gown was exquisite, however in Key’s loudly voiced opinion, was saved from being sofa material and frumpy grandmother-ish looks, with delicate symmetrical slits toward the apex of the empire lining of the skirt.  

 

* * *

 

It was loud, very loud, even if they swore they went for the chilled atmosphere complete with Vogue catwalk music.

It was bright, very bright, even if the created themed ambience was ‘soft’ with hues of purple, blue and red lights.

You never remembered museums to be so gaudy, but you suppose when one was pulling out all the stops, one tended to overlook the minor details in the effort to wrap someone up in the experience.   

No one really knew what was going to happen at the event.

All that was thrown out, mind you on the Friday afternoon before the show, in promotion for the event was a set of flyers with different crowns and masks. As if the flyers had not stirred up every social media reporting platform – a huge golden shield, which had a lightning bolt embedded in the very centre of it, was buried into a rock and draped in cloak of black thorn vines that was placed at the centrepiece outside the event venue.

So, as to what everyone has pretty much guessed, the decided theme were the Greek Gods.

 

* * *

 

 

The cool air of the atmosphere warmed as you clung to Taemin a little tighter. It was overwhelming in every sense and you were pretty sure you could barely acknowledge holding Taemin’s arm.

“Love, I know you’re nervous in front of all these cameras but you’re going to take my arm off if you squeeze any tighter. So for the love of God and the bruised skin of my arm, let go please.” Taemin gritted out despite showing off a charming smile to the million cameras before the both of you. The flash from the cameras were enough to make you go blind and you secretly hoped for the best to look focused in the pictures, rather than a zoned out bimbo on the young wealthy designer’s arm.

Finally, the usher stepped up and decided to escort you to the allocated seats, the front line that edged the catwalk.

It was a magnificent idea of a themed show since the entire interior matched. You realised Taemin had abandoned you while you were trying to take in everything and it was confirmed In-Guk really wasn’t playing around for his main night of showcases.

The entire catwalk, that was backed by a heavy imposing curtain, looked like a marble slab that was being held up by rubble made of broken capital heads, all varying from simple Doric and Ionic to the intricate decorative Corinthian styled ones, artfully broken and cracked under the straining weight of the triple stepped marble slab.

The slab could hold three models standing side by side at the same time considering it seemed like a lengthy champion’s pedestal, with the centre lane being raised higher than the other two flanking it.

You really had no idea what was in In-Guk’s plan but you assumed he called all his favourites to showcase the event. However your stomach sank as that idea was practically drop-kicked out the window as a flirty male settled next to you.

“This does look very exciting, almost as exciting as you tonight.” 

“What are you doing here, Jong Suk? Aren’t you modelling on the catwalk tonight? With Woo Bin and Soo Hyuk?” You go wide eyed as you see the supermodel occupy the seat next to you.

“Sadly, In-Guk said no to us for this project, Darling. And anyway I’m not dressed for the runway.” He gestured to his suit that was tailored to his skin, wild floral print pinned to the dark maroon of the suit and his hair wildly tousled for the bed hair look and fancy Italian dress shoes.

_Was the trend to not own shirts lately?_ The afterthought chasing you as you watched him pull his phone out from the lining of his jacket.

“So, where are your beloved boyfriends?”

“Woonie is stuck in traffic and is contemplating not even attending because he’s tired and Hyukkie won’t even give me attention, he’s even gone as far as to bringing a date. Can you believe they’ve left me on my own tonight?!” Jong Suk fussed and had his hands clasped around yours in your lap, phone abandoned, no guessing needed as he badgered the other two supermodels via numerous texts typed at lightning speed.

You always knew he was insatiable for skin ship; he always needed to be attached to someone. You found it hilarious considering that a gorgeous supermodel like him should be iffy about being touched because of his day job but he’s practically a puppy in constant need of petting.

You chuckled lightly as he tangled his fingers with your own, “What about In-Guk?”

“He’s in stickler mode. It’s hard to flirt with him when he’s so annoyed and moody.” Jong Suk pouted; saddened by the fact that even his own charms could not sway In-Guk.

And that was saying something, especially when you remembered how In-Guk had been putty for the taller male when they worked together on that swimsuit edition.

 

* * *

 

The museum-turned-showcase-stage-venue had now been almost filled with to the brim.

You felt a little warm, not particularly sure if it’s the champagne in the air or it’s all the patrons. There were so many heads of other rival fashion corps and houses frequenting In-Guk’s show for the night. A lot said they had attended the night before and were impressed if not a little appalled considering all the bad mouthing surrounding the model-turned-head-designer.

Eventually, Jong Suk abandoned whining as you see Woo Bin settle into his seat in the row of chairs across the wide catwalk. And Soo Hyuk joined not too much later with a female model that looked hungry or at least that what her protruding collarbones told you.

You were beginning to become bored and wondered what next.

You thought too soon.

The atmosphere turned freezing as the lights get killed. Chatter filled the air, mingling with the disgruntled noises and gasps. But it died out just as fast since strong drums played a pounding rhythm. It rattled you through your chest and you felt your heartbeat synchronise with the thrumming sensation.

Men draped in dark lush cloaks filled the lower tiers of the catwalk, fierce expressions cast by harsh lighting from the fire torches in their hand. The main ramp was filled with banner bearers – huge silk banners with intricate insignia of SIGnature Designs but it was of gold leaf with Greek decorative designs. The banner bearers step of the main ramp and slot themselves between the torch carriers comfortably and the main ramp was assaulted with fog and the drums die out.

The lights came back but were dimmed ever so much to make the hues become stronger, casting strong shades on the catwalk and strong classical elements in music filled the air heavenly, all plucked strings and bursts of keys.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

_Talk about dramatic experience._

_Drama queens._

_The whole lot of them._

_Making such brazen statements._

_In-Guk, that idiot, was flashing his flamboyance and wealth again._

A goddess-like model graces the ramp, seemingly floating between the fog, Grecian white muse robe held in place by gaudy crest-designed-pins and hair all held up by hairspray and pins. She had an urn in hand, golden and polished. She walks to the end of the catwalk and the people are buzzing with marvelled expressions and anticipation.

She looked down, rather haughtily, on the people as she tipped the urn over on the broken capital heads and the urn gushed liquid that resembles liquefied gold, glittering and extravagant over the pretty but broken pieces of architecture. Her arrogant expression displayed her statement of being able to waste her luxuries before the masses as power of the gods before them.

The lights died down as candles in the masses of groupings were placed all around were set alight by the torchbearers.

_I’m going to kill this asshole for being such a diva._

 

* * *

 

The show was well into full swing as flawless model after model graced the lower tiers of the runway, make up immaculate and dramatic to taste whichever celestial figure they were supposed to be channelling as their concept.

But most of the models seemed slightly bland in comparison to the night before and seemed to ignore or abandon the main tier.

It didn’t seem as captivating since there was quite a bit of chatter from the crowd over the random bursts of camera shutters. You couldn’t blame the masses for being bored with the models since all the outfits looked alike but varying swaddles of the same set of materials.

At that point you began to bite your lip nervously.

You had not heard from In-Guk and he was nowhere to be seen. You wrung the tissue in your lap anxiously as the models stomped their way down the catwalk.

The last of the models disappeared behind the curtain and no one seemed to come out.

You swore you felt your ears ringing over the Vogue music. But that couldn’t have been the last of the showcase. You stress your memory to find a memorable piece from the collection but nothing really stood out to you.

And that had worried you, more than the lip that was being worried between your teeth.

It was then that a lightning and thunder effect was cast within the atmosphere – flashing lights and rumbling sounds.

Another person had taken to the main tier of the runway for the night.

This figure looked taller.

Broader even. 

Yet, also wrapped up in a bundle of material.

You were seriously contemplating going backstage to see what the hell In-Guk was up too.

But the figure walked straight to the end on the catwalk and stopped dead. The lights had changed from dark hues to a light soft feeling with airy lighting.

Gold band adorned wrists poked out from the dark masses of material and hands with a delicious skin tone gripped at the hood.

The hood was thrown back and an entire messy mop of metallic pink hair burst out from under the dark cloak. The hair was tousled and held a wreath of pale blue flowers as a crown. You wondered how the hell it was not mussed out of its fashionably messy style under the hood. The model lifted his head and smiled at the crowd before him.

His smile was intoxicating and left you heady on the spot. He was stunning. His lips were plush and shiny in pale pink that seemed to blend with the highlights in his hair colour while his eyes were a drastic contrast of colour of smoky eye makeup and pretty blue eyes. It was a striking change as he had a large dusty pink rose nestled to the side of his neck – perching on his left collarbone as it was held by the slim black velvet band around his neck.

His expression was seductive, hazy blue eyes lidded in ecstasy and mouth pulled into a suggestive smirk. His hand settled at his shoulder and he grinned, all Cheshire like, as his slender fingers curled the fabric and ripped the cloak off.

The show’s patrons burst into thunderous applause when Exo’s face, Kim Kai, stood proudly in nothing but a short white silk sash around his hips, lined in gold and showcasing his godly physique.

The same thin gold strip of lining looped around his firm and muscular arms in bands that attached themselves to the sheeting layers of pale dusted rose pink feathers to express that Kim Kai had wings. The wings were exquisite to gaze at even if it was draped on his arm like a simple curtain. The colour as light as candy floss with a type of shimmer to it, it was as if he had hidden diamonds in his wings.  The same gold bands found a way to artfully mould itself against his lithe and lean torso.

He had lifted his arms as if bracing the air and music began to play. It was soft and soothing, invoking if anything.

The feathers brushed against his bare tanned skin like the cloak did but it was lighter, airy in the motion as they swished around him as his arms moved gracefully.

**_It was then that Zeus had sent a Muse._ **

**_A Muse to carry the tale of Gods, the stories of Olympus, the epics of the Greek Immortals._ **

**_The Muse of Dance._ **

**_Terpsichore._ **

Kim Kai had stolen the breaths and hearts of everyone in the room as he danced as a Muse of Olympus on one of the biggest runways in the world to showcase. He was the embodiment of the meaning behind the Goddess’s name.

**_Delight in Dancing._ **

His dance did not last very long but he was poised and art in motion for that moment until he crossed back to the start of the catwalk.

It was pattern of alternating between contemporary twirls and whirls to flawless, steady and balanced walking. The sash with gold edging rippled around him as if his skin had no contact to the material. The last twirl had his leg in the air (thank god for the dignity saving solid pair of white performance shorts – _holy shit, was that spandex?_ ) exposing how the gold band had wrapped around his thigh and snaked a loop on his calf before twirling itself around his foot at the arch.

He twirled on the spot, motion as elegant as the ballet dancer he is, before he dropped to the floor and curled over into himself. He then flung himself open and skyward in a way, laughter shaking through his body and back arching as if his own breath was being stolen from him.

His arms raised to the sky in the most delicate manner, wings spread wide and proud and shaking with trembling energy from his form, as the heavy curtain behind him fell to the ground, unveiling the large insignia, broken in three pieces but all held closely like puzzle pieces.

It was the clash of the three forces.

It was Zeus, Hades and Kratos artfully expressed in the emblem.

There was another round of rumbling clapping and the sound of camera shutters and flashes were frantic to capture the glimpse of the divine energy that took form as Kim Kai.

He stood and walked the catwalk once more and stood on the main tier as if it was his alone. He spread his arms to show off the feathered masses, sparkling and dazzling but nothing was as dizzying as the heart-stopping and earth-shattering smile he gave, dent in his cheek stubbornly standing out.

In the corner of your mind, you had keeled over and fainted from his sweltering energy. It had burned you up and intoxicated you soul just the way he wanted.

He twirled on the spot once more, this time more playful, achingly slower as he aimed to show off his outfit before making a graceful exit but not without one last heart stopping glittering smile.

You really didn’t know what else to expect but you figured that it was simply the beginning of whatever In-Guk had planned.

It wasn’t long before the lights changed to a deep red and most of the lights got killed. The next model had stepped forward. You could barely make out the figure as he walked forward holding something in his grasp. He was quick with his stepping and he stopped half way on the catwalk as the model placed the item on the floor and the spotlight lit up the item.

It was an intricate gold box of a decent size that sat ominously on the catwalk. The spotlight only managed to catch the white feathery wing on a slave sandal that was attached to the model’s heel as he walked away.

The lights changed again back to the light and airy type of feeling.

Another model had stepped onto the main tier again.

This model was tall with very broad shoulders. His proportions were astounding since he was a broad as a wall, defined chest and a cut torso with strong hips yet his waist was tiny enough to make any girl jealous.

His face was set in a poker face to display the perfect scopes of his face; the slant of his dark eyebrows that stood out against his light hair to the stubborn tilt of his jaw and nose. His small full mouth was tight and the male’s face was nothing but sharp lines and coldness.

Yet.

His eyes were a mix of a soft deep brown to his right while his left showed the frigid green of mystery and mischief. All his charisma seemed to come alive from just his eyes as he walked. The soft effect played up by the harsh blonde of his hair, even despite the brown roots showing and the darkness of the brown in his undercut.

The crowd erupted in applause again because for the second time for the night, an Exo model had graced the catwalk.

He was their youngest.

Oh Sehun.

He held no crown atop his head despite his divine-like beauty, all dressed in an arrangement of nude sheer layers that hung gently from his strong shoulders and biscuit coloured solid shorts that had sheer strips cutting through them in a dangerous manner to expose the model.

The layers took nothing away from his Greek God physique as the material brushed against his firm and cut torso. Every ridge and dip seemed amplified and dramatized under the soft fabrics that fell off and showed the wings hidden under.

They seemed to have matched his wings perfectly since they were bright and almost cream-colored, bright and pure like him. But the wings were tinted with an ombre of brown that flecked itself beautifully into the cream. There were hints of dulled gold that stole its way into his wings.

The wings shook open as the motion of him swished them into unfolding.

Again the thunderous clapping reminded you that you were at a fashion show and not playing peeping tom to the Greek Gods.

Sehun had stopped before the box and looked at it innocently and curiously, full lips parting.

**_To open Pandora’s Box is a seemingly innocent action but the consequences were dire. The Gods themselves tremble at the idea of the box being opened. The Olympians are wary since the box could mean the end of Olympus itself._ **

Sehun had pushed the box lid open and the lights played a violent hue of red and flashes of white and Sehun backed away, slim digits almost electrocuted by the action. The model pouted, with full redden lips, when the lights returned, the wings now fallen around his shoulders in the panicked motion. It shrouded him as he walked off the catwalk.

His back profile emphasised since the wings exposed the soft skin of his back that disappeared under the boxer sixed biscuit shorts that were accented with brown highlights. It clung to his strong thighs and plush bottom as he exited.

Jong Suk nudged you playfully, hinting that you were staring a little too long at the Pandora inspired model. He really couldn’t blame you; Oh Sehun was a sight to see that needed to be appreciated.

Zeus’ piece in the puzzle piece emblem had fallen and so had your stomach, thinking that this was definitely hinting at something.

The lights were killed down to just the light strips placed among the broken capitals. You hadn’t even noticed that. The lights became weak since smoke began to roll off the catwalk tiers and it covered the capitals thickly.

The lights came back on and the lower tiers became filled with ladies of all shape and size and colour dressed in Grecian maiden robes, shortened skirts to show off the slave sandal clad legs before they draped themselves over the tiers attractively.

The box was cast to the side on the broken capitals but not discarded.

Fog tumbled out again as a new model stepped up. The music was heavenly, giving you the idea you were nearing Olympus yourself.

He was stunning. He was the personification of masculine beauty.

It was Apollo before the mere mortals who watched on, mortals who had offered themselves up shamelessly to worship his presence alone.

His soft chocolate brown hair was fluffed up dramatically and in a sexy manner that was unforgiving. His shoulders were taut as his wings were opened behind his back. They were the biggest set for the night yet as the dark navy feathers whispered around his bare calves. His skin was fair and beautiful.

To add to this man’s beauty was the flecks of gold gems that were studded into the grandiose set of wings. The lush wings hinted at that there was something dangerous to this God since the tops of the wings were decorated with tangled gold chains that seemed to have been broken over them. The gold was a harsh experience as it snared between the sumptuous navy feathers painfully.

He was bound around the neck with the same opulent gold chains on his solid thick collar. Some of the stray chains were teasing his collar bones and dipped along the skin.

**_It was Apollo, the all-seeing Oracle, who saw that Pandora had unlatched the lid of the box of evils. He felt it was urgent to see Zeus before the evils of humanity grasped at the King of Olympus. But even the Oracle felt swept up in the temptation of concealing what he had seen._ **

True to what had been imagined, Lee Hongbin – our Apollo – stumbled across the catwalk. Limbs ostensibly sated with poisonous ecstasy. He approached the end of the catwalk and stood without a sway despite his body showing a type of drunkenness to it. The drunkenness had been bounding him like a slave since the opulent collar had paired up with the broken shackles around his wrists and ankles. The chains rattled and trailed and stole the warmth from his skin.

He placed a hand on his hip and canted it to jut outward as his fingers brushed against the soft navy material of lace boxer shorts. The material solidified at the front to make the shorts socially acceptable. His expressions sinful as his eyes were hooded darkly and his plush pink lips parted before pulling into a wicked lopsided smirk.

He gave you the overall feeling of being hazy when drunk. You weren’t really sure if what you saw before you was true as you watched him lazily pull at the gold collar. It was as if you were struggling to keep him in your view since the edges of your vision tickled with darkness. But he captivated you and kept you zeroed in on him and only him as everything else fades into the darkness. When his head dipped in defeat you caught the glimpse of the gold wrangled and ruined wreath that sat askew in his dark shinning hair.

It was such an overwhelming sight. He had tried to pull the choker off but he was conquered again and tipped his head back in frustration before he growled aloud and the lights died with Apollo’s fated doom of being poisoned.

**_Apollo had seen everything that the wickedness of Pandora’s Box will bring to the Olympian Gods and wished for it to be banished but his body was not enough to contain it. He had fled to the Hades realm to rid himself of the sickness that claimed him but to also watch over the King of the Underworld, lest he be swayed by the sickness of his own ego._ **

**_Olympus’ Gatekeeper along with a winged messenger had seen the fall of the Oracle as Apollo plunged from Olympus’ Heavens and down Mount Olympus to escape to Hades’ Underworld. The messenger tsked at the misfortune while the Gatekeeper expressed concern for his abode and the Olympians._ **

The lights returned and the girls were gone and the lower tiers were filled with nothing but the sandals and robes of the Olympian maidens cast aside viciously and tattered.

A flash of bright red and gold was seen.

It was a cape.

A cape with the insignia of the Nemean Lion on it. The figure walked briskly and strappingly across the marble.

This is the Gatekeeper.

Heracles.

After all his Twelve Labours, he assumed he would be the chosen champion for the Olympians to close Pandora’s Box.

Jung Taekwoon was the modern day idea of what Heracles would look like. He was tall with an athletic body. He was not as defined as Apollo, who was the image of masculine beauty but he was strong and sturdy as a champion should be.

He held his strength in his broad back and bulky legs with firm pale thighs. His beauty was of a different kind for those who did not favour Apollo. He had a strong face with high cheekbones that were sprinkled with light freckles and his dark black hair, mussed with his green olive vine wreath, fluffed around his eyes softly. His tiny mouth was pink and puckered.

But his eyes were concerning since one was covered by the vine eyepatch that danced across his face while the other eye expressed a deep hazel.

The idea of a vambrace was discarded in favour of red dress spaulders that were fringed in gold while his arms had been clad in gold armour bracings bearing his Nemean Lion crests and his bottom was clad in a gold sash across his tree trunk like legs lined with red and held together by a dainty Nemean Lion crest pin at the hip.

He was pure and stood for everything Olympians wanted for Humankind. And thus Heracles was blessed with the purest of white wings. They were larger than Apollo’s since the wings had swept at his ankles.  

But darkness clutched at the Olympian Champion since the wings were wrapped in dark thorn vines. The vines were stark in black contrast to the soft wings that shimmered under the pale lights and it wound down his one arm while the other held the shield with his Lion insignia on it. The vines even found a way to wind itself around his thick neck and tickled the protruding veins under the thin membrane. But it was apparently a forgiving darkness since there sat a bright white rose in the dip of his collarbones.

**_Love is tragic when it goes unrequited but that wasn’t the problem for the God who had a growing crush on the Gatekeeper of Olympus. He sat and watched the strong man affectionately, knowing what a challenge lays in learning to desire._ **

Heracles, in his entire plight, walked away flawlessly and without a sign of pain or hurt. The crowd cheered once more seeing another Greek God leave the catwalk.

A model took the catwalk by storm as he had swagger to his gait. The man was on the shorter side of all the models seen for the night. But his aura and charisma made up for it. He was lust on legs in all honesty. His dark dirty blonde hair swept across his golden skin wickedly. His skin was clad by a fiery red set of shorts, which flared with bits of black frilling and lace around his thighs and bottom, coupled with a sheer black shirt that didn’t need to be buttoned but it was half way down, seemingly enticing anyone who gazed upon Eros. The man was the embodiment of sensuality.

**_It was Eros in all his charms that could not even sway Heracles into seducing. Finally giving up, he freed the Olympian Champion away from the lust and tried to gain a type of friendship and understanding with him. The vines of temptations were pulled back but still stuck in his palm and wrapped around a stamped marking of an all-seeing eye as a stinging reminder of the one who could not be swayed._ **

The God of Desire stood with flamboyance and flare proudly in the soul of Cha Hakyeon, the youthful leader of the Vixx Models. He stood with such confidence and surety of himself as he walked the runway with a slight swish in his walk, accentuating the sinewy build of his lower body. Typical dancer body, coupled with a shapely bottom and bare thigh down to his toes.

Cha Hakyeon shared a remarkable resemblance to In-Guk. There were times when Hakyeon tilted his head, long neck exposed and golden skin glittering, in a suggestive expression he looked a lot like In-Guk. You giggled silently at the thought that In-Guk envisioned himself as Eros.

Hakyeon smiled enticingly to the crowd and received cheers as he threw his hands up into his hair, obviously a sign of frustration that went ignored since more skin of a flat smooth stomach was now exposed to the masses, and mussed it even more before dragging them into his metal wings that were wrapped in wild thorn vines. The same ones that snared a particular Olympian but his wings were covered in white roses, full and fresh in its bloom. Some so fresh that they were still dew kissed. Just like the dewy highlight make up dancing across Hakyeon’s face.

**_Among the Olympians, lay a trickster who deemed playing with fate as a time passer. He left the Champion and the God of Desire to fall to their own fates while this trickster decided to play with the fate of someone bigger._ **

**_Hermes._ **

**_He tested his fate as the Messenger God and his own boundaries by playing with all the realms so he set off to Hades in proposal of large scale playing._ **

**_A play against Zeus himself._ **

The catwalk lit up to Apollo sprawled attractively on the steps of it. Long legs clad in slave sandals thrown over the broken capital heads, making the God-to-Mortal ratio look real. His head was thrown back in lethargy, makeup all messed up since the dramatic eye makeup was smudged and his lips were smeared with glitter as if the aftermath of wiping away the gold blood. His wings were ruffled out messily, feathers upturned at points. The same molten gold liquid was drenching the single wing, as if bleeding out with the sickness in his soul. In his hand, he held a goblet as a clear wine filled glass urn sits on a tray near the pained God.

Barking sounds filled the air as three dogs stepped forward. Show dogs, Dobermans, no doubt as they strutted with the artful collars looped to a leather leash held by Hades himself. Hades was tall and imposing with hell mongrels at the leash. He commanded respect with his body language alone as he did in the single flick of his wrist to keep the hounds at bay.

Kim Ravi is the perfect Hades as he wrapped his hand and looped the leather leash in his palm as the dogs tried to tow him down the catwalk. His hair was a shade of starlight – silver, bright and dazzling and twined with a crown of thorns. His eye makeup was slathered thickly for a dark aura, which was poorly noticed due to his light grey eyes, and his lips were shining red. His skin tone was kissed by the sun and covered in swirls of black ink as he strides down. His form was rigid and strong.

His overall balance was an appealing sight since his strength was held gently with the lightness of his step and the minute tugs to keep his dogs in line. But it was his wings that capture the attention of everyone.

Even the Oracle stares unabashedly, panted breaths and parted pink lips.

Hades’ wings open wide even if they rest behind his back and are black as ink. They’re sharp and edgy feathers that give you the feeling it’s been made from metal but the black melts into a deep mauve which fades into the bright clean white tips that sweep the floor as he walks. The most interesting thing was that the God himself was wearing a collar with the most fascinating colour choice that doesn’t pair up with his wings. Its slate grey coloured leather choker that pales among the tattoos on Ravi’s neck – quite the statement piece.    

The Underworld God was clad in a sheer black thrown on shirt, nothing shielding his torso since the ‘shirt’ is technically two strips draped over him because of his wings, and dark lace boxer brief shorts. Like Apollo’s, the dignity saving strip is solidified, with designed swirls of mauve, at the crotch and mirrors the back while the sides offer little to the imagination. The contrast with his skin tone was delicious and inviting. Tempting as the God should be, even as one as a forbidden desire as Hades.

The crowd gasps as the Cerberus-like dogs flail over the lower tiers excitedly and Hades remained calm as ever. He focused on Apollo and ran a sinewy inked hand through Hongbin’s hair and down the strong squared features of Apollo’s face to settle fingers just under the robust chin to tilt the latter’s head up sympathetically. There was a pause of the crowd holding their breath before the sick Oracle offered up the goblet but it fell in between the change of hands.

The God should have been livid.

But it was then a boy tumbled out onto the marble mass. He was probably the tallest to grace the showcase. He was lean and lanky wit muscles rippling under the skin to rival Apollo himself.

Han Sanghyuk, the youngest of Vixx Models had stepped up in the red lights, with tragic mask in hand – most likely stolen from the Muse of Tragedy – to show his double role or deception.

He was soft with parted caramel hair that tickled his high cheekbones. His mouth a blessing with a high strung bow that was strained tightly and deeply since it is accompanied with a full lush bottom lip. His eyes were charming and soft.   

His neck was gently decorated with a pale powdered blue silk collar that runs down his defined and cut torso and ends at the hip where his baby blue boxer shorts hug him. The shorts were rather creative since they are inspired by cut-out crisscross formations on the sides and across from hip to hip in the front and back. It should be sinful but it played up the innocence of this god, even if you catch the peak of the groove of his spine in his back that is dotted with dimples at the base.

The soft concept continued with more thin blue strips patterning crisscross designs across his entire physique, up his muscular torso and down his long long leg before disappearing into his winged sandals. Hyuk’s sandal has small white wings that attach themselves at the ankles of the sandal. The same pure white wings nestle themselves into his rich hair and tuck just behind his ears.  

One would think that the angel-like look would have white wings to match but his fluffed wings were dusted with coffee stains making the set of fluffed feathers look like parchment. The faded colour burst to life against his skin; the slight hint of danger in his wings was the streaks of pure silver in them.

The same silver in the silver tongue used to say the pretty words he spoke and the wondrous tales he wove for the God of the Underworld about being done wrongfully and cheated in his straw draw with his other two brothers.

With such doubt in the air, Hades was tempted to believe as such since he was isolated to his domain in the Underworld and the pits of Tartarus. He was almost consumed with the idea that Zeus would do him such sin to sate the Thunder King’s own greed and cancel out his almost equal. Hades, despite being fiercely private about his ego and power, knew he was stronger than their brother in the Ocean Domain.

Yes, this image of innocence and sweetness was the charlatan who is playing games, the same who lured Pandora to the box just for the sake of entertainment, and the same who was about to possibly end Hades.

There was a roaring cheering from the crowds as three gorgeous models were before them and stood as Gods.

Hermes – our adorable Hyuk – approached the Underworld God and tempted him with a game so dangerous that it would be ridiculous to entertain.

Hades pet the sweet Olympian while the other grins, intent wicked but appearing charming all the while of watching the sick Oracle lying befuddled before them helplessly.

The lights were cut and there was more applause.

**_The sickness that was desperately barred by the sick Oracle was overpowering as it swept over by winged shoes and blue silk that held a soft smile._ **

**_Hades had only a taste of the poisonous illness before casting it away. He sought out his brother, not for a fight but for his sanity._ **

**_However, far away in the clouds, illness travelled airborne and infected without warning. It had clutched at the King like a prize._ **

**_It had drawn storms and drove the people of Olympus into hiding, fearing the wrath of the mighty King of the Gods._ **

More fog filled the catwalk and the air turned cold as if one was high high up. It was obvious one had to imagine Mount Olympus itself.

The lights are bright, awfully bright and there is a harp being plucked somewhere, far away.

The lower tiers were lined with shockingly stark coloured flowers.

There was more thunder and lightning and patrons are left gasping excitably, murmuring about the arrival of the King.

There was a flash there stood Zeus at the foot of the catwalk.

He was gorgeous.

Gorgeous but angry.

Livid, in truth.

His striking blonde – almost white – hair stuck up in part as if his own energy was crackling up through his body. The lightning bolts that tucked behind his ears looked askew.

Zeus was as grand as everyone expected him to be.

Nose as high as Mount Olympus itself, dark thick eyebrows slanted as drastically as his bolts, eyes as blue and fierce as the skies he ruled and lips as plush as the clouds he slept in. Lee Jaehwan – the cutie of Vixx Models – played a deceivingly beautiful Zeus, fitting with a royal air to the man.

His more modest form was hidden by a rich blue silk sash that slung against his skin, notched at one shoulder by a lightning bolt and covered his torso. The embroidery-lined tunic had slits in them and gave peaks at the laced white shorts he wore. His chest was broader under the tunic and his arms were wrapped in bangles on his biceps and wrists. There was a bangle bound around his thigh and the other his neighbouring calf.

But the odd thing about the King’s outfit was the collar that sat heavily on his collarbones.

It was mauve strip wrap-around with a black chain link. It didn’t match any of his form fitting bangles nor did it match neither the silk he wore nor the wings he was graced with.

Zeus’ wings were the largest, even more so than Hades’. It was still floor length like Hades’ but it was wider, devastating with the power in them. They were slate grey that fades in accents of white and black. The tips looked like Zeus had stepped into a spill of ink as the dark colour smeared and marred the light colour wings.

He was angry as his large hand curled a fist around the gold bolt in his palm. There was the sound of fizzling, like rain on a white hot rod.

Well, you thought, they weren’t exactly wrong since it was the idea was the same.

He watched as Heracles stepped at the foot of the catwalk before he had crashed two urns over as he left the catwalk in an annoyed huff. Lips stretched into a tight line, lips pressing together and stealing the pink out of them as he cast aside the Champion without even acknowledging him with the heavy dash to the shoulder in passing.

The urns that were broken over were filled with wine and molten gold that mixed toxically and ruined the flowers.

A terrible sign.

**_There was a time when the God had fought together to save what little of the world left after the destruction left by the Titans._ **

**_Zeus with his two brothers had then scattered with the rest of the gods in generations over realms to maintain the world but the ways of the world changed and two had come to be believed as better than the isolated one._ **

**_There was fear of the depths of fire and hell but it was a lonely God with his consort who tended to the afterlife with honour and duty._ **

**_Yet these evils of humanity had clawed a sense of jealousy and distrust into the lonely God. Suppressing every wrong emotion out of care for the King of the Gods, the Lord of the Underworld took to the heavens to seek his beloved brother._ **

Bright lights filled the venue, very bright lights.

Olympus felt cold and ill. Even the flowers were marred.

The catwalk was filled with two great figures that walked on the lower tiers to the end and faced the crowd that held bated breaths to see what each of the Gods would do. But it was a mistake on Ravi’s bit as he stepped onto the main tier.

He was quickly pushed back to his own tier by the furious blonde God.

Hades, not one to be pushed around, stepped back up to push against the shorter male.

They stood clashed against each other, breaths mingling and bared teeth in effect until the lights were killed and a large whip crack filled the venue.

You were flabbergasted. You knew something was amiss and so did the entire crowd of patrons who began to complain loudly.

The lights came back on and Kim Ravi and Lee Jaehwan were currently walking down the catwalk for the third time for the night, dressed to T as their role but hooked onto a chain each that were now coiled around In-Guk’s fist as he walked behind them and waved to everyone.

He was dressed black from head to toe.

His black pants were stylishly tapered once more and the pants hugged around his hips smartly. His black satin silk shirt was tucked into his pants. It was an elegant shirt with a high standing collar that stopped before his collarbones and plunged into v down his built chest.

The shirt lacked buttons on the front and opted fittingly for suave patterned stich work while the collar frilled out like an old English-stylised shirt. Placed upon the shirt was black leather bracing in the form of dragon scaled spine structure that looped around the shoulders and armpits and linked at the spine and across the chest as if scales that just managed to touch each other at the tips.

Every knot in the dragon spine was dotted with a metal spiked stud. It was small, blunt but fitting for the leather. The spine even climbed to cover his neck with just enough space for the silken frills to escape and splay over his enchanting skin tone.

His leather shoes matched the leather on his shirt and the sole thickened slightly to be studded with flat studs while the under soles were painted blood red.

**_The puppet master._ **

**_A tamer of Gods._ **

You were seriously going to beat him senseless for pulling such a stunt of Greek God inspired lingerie on men.

He bowed, stupidly satisfied smirk etched into his perfect face, as the models clung to him like pups and grinned at each other as if they weren’t about to kill each other in the very same spot. He rose and ruffled Jaehwan’s hair that prompted pouting from the stunning male.

The applause was deafening as the other models filled out behind. Hongbin walked out first, wings clean and pristine while his arms raised high in generous enthusiastic waves and smile broad, deep dimples cutting like slashes into his marble face while Hyuk followed and cheesed in an adorable-like manner, nose scrunching up in perfect attribute to his boyish concept as he pulled the wings around him to shield his nude torso.

Taekwoon strode down, small smile – if a quirked corner of the mouth counts – on his lips as he greeted the patrons, spaulders rubbing against his puffed cheeks as he waved. Not far behind was Hakyeon who smiled radiantly like sunshine, completely different form his Eros-like smile, as he glided down the runway, wings bouncing slightly with his walk, not really interested in the crowd but mostly to catch up to his own Heracles.

Lastly to file out was Kim Kai and Oh Sehun, the special models from Exo who seemed attached at the hips. Kai waved like a child, wings swishing frantically with the vigour of his arm. Sehun, poker face cast aside as his eyes turned to crescents and he greeted. He stopped to bow with Kai at certain points on the runway before joining Hongbin and Hyuk. Hongbin embraced Kai by looping a strong arm around Kai’s back and smiling brightly while Sehun took it upon himself to link his hands with Hyuk and bowed.

By this time Ravi and Jaehwan were hoisting a link set of hands into the air, twined fingers as Champions while Ravi smiled devastatingly and Ken had closed his eyes and puffed his cheeks out before throwing kisses with his free hand.

The other models had rounded the lower tiers of the catwalk once more in a single file before exiting backstage while In-Guk bowed deeply again and everyone was standing and applauding.

**Author's Note:**

> Talk to me on Twitter  
> @Gia_BubbleBear  
> (https://twitter.com/Gia_BubbleBear)


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